Renault was wrong.
It wasn’t an hour into the journey before both he and Emilie were hurling last night’s stew over the ship’s gunwales.
Both Constance and Jacques stood on the quarterdeck giggling at the two landlubbers who thought they could handle the journey. Constance stepped down onto the main deck and handed both of them two bottles of wine.
“The wormwood has been soaking in this wine for the last two days, it should help quell some of the seasickness,” she said while they took the bottles. “Only small sips though, no big gulps.”
Renault put the bottle to his lips, but before he could drink he got hit with another round of vomiting. Emilie fared better, she was able to take a sip of the wine.
“That’s awful,” she said to Constance once she was done.
Constance smiled. “Keep the
